


Rock Bee, Shinobi Disaster

by ThisCatastrophe



Category: Naruto
Genre: Comedy, Established Relationship, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Pre-Boruto, Rock Lee's disaster of a clone, Unsettling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 13:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14854079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisCatastrophe/pseuds/ThisCatastrophe
Summary: Rock Lee has been working hard on his ninjutsu, and finally he has something to show for it. Meet Rock Bee, the objectively worst clone ever.(A lighthearted chapter comedy about Rock Bee's failure-clone. Established LeeGaa and KankuTen [background], shenanigans, misunderstandings and unsettling doppelgangers.)





	Rock Bee, Shinobi Disaster

_Dearest Gaara,_

_How have you been? I am well here in Konoha, or as well as I can be without you around. My apartment is clean and the good sheets are on my bed; the cacti will be very glad to see you, too, so they can show off their new planters._

_I am so excited for your visit this week. Securing vacation time must be hard for the Kazekage, and I am so glad you chose to spend that time with me. You have my word that the week will be thrilling and youthful!_

_I’ve been reading the chakra guides you sent me last month. Already I feel a much better handle on my chakra, and when you visit, I hope to try performing ninjutsu again. With your help, I am sure even I can learn a jutsu or two._

_Your steadfast love, forever and ever,_

_Rock Lee_

_P.S. The station timetable says your train will be in at one. I will bring a delicious, healthy lunch for you!_

Gaara folds and refolds the paper until its creases are as soft as tissue paper. It smells like Lee’s cologne, a rich sandalwood winding through lingering notes of jasmine, and he resists the urge to press his face into it, settling it between the palms of his hands instead. He’s a patient man. He can wait out the remaining half-hour train trip to enjoy the smell of Lee’s cologne from the source.

Outside, the western Fire countryside rolls past in a smooth blur. How stressful, he thought, to see buildings fly away at such a rate when his hands sat folded in his lap and his sand sat quietly in its gourd, but as the train advanced from its origin in Suna towards the border, he quickly grew accustomed to the clip. Now it all seems rather pretty, not threatening.

Gaara allows himself to smile. The inaugural journey of the Thunder Rail’s Suna Service has so far been wonderfully smooth, the sleeping cars plush, the food filling and the stewards courteous. In a very short time, he’ll be back on solid ground with his arms firmly encircled around Rock Lee. And there will be a full, wonderful week of blessed paid vacation, something he sorely needed but refused to cash in for far too long.

Today will be wonderful.

\--

“Gaara!”

“Hello, Lee,” he says with a smile, setting the worn camelskin bag on the platform tile.

Before him stands a vision in green; it’s a vacation day for Lee, too, and he’s dolled up in a suit the color of tender baby ferns, a massive bouquet of vibrant burgundy carnations, their delicate petals rimmed in milk white, cradled in the crook of his arm. His free hand waves wildly in the air, surely destroying whatever takeout lunch he has in the bag that swings violently back and forth.

There are arms on Gaara in seconds.

“Gaara, darling, dearest, angel, my favorite Kage, wonderful gift—”

“It’s good to see you, too, Lee.”

“—my sunshine, lambchop, my one and only, the most stunning man in Suna, perfection—”

“This is a little much, isn’t it?”

“—my soulmate, other half, beloved! It’s so good to see you.”

Gaara smiles for the second time that day. “Is that a new record?”

The camelskin bag is off the ground in seconds and under Lee’s arm. He offers up the carnations with a gentle bow and a kiss on the top of Gaara’s rumpled hair before turning, energetic, towards the station. 

“You’ll never guess, Gaara! I have a surprise for you. Remember when I said I was studying your ninjutsu writings? I am afraid I was too excited to wait for your arrival, and I am happy to report that I performed my first successful jutsu recently!”

It nearly stops Gaara in his path, but for all Lee’s affectionate greetings, the man is still determined to serve his guest lunch, and Gaara has to keep moving to keep up. “Lee, you performed ninjutsu? That’s…”

“I am very proud of myself! Gai said I did a wonderful job, as well!” Lee turns and gives him that dazzling smile/thumbs up combination that makes Gaara’s heart do little flips. “And I think you will also be satisfied with the results.” 

Results? That makes it sound like the effects of his first ninjutsu still linger somewhere, Gaara thinks. He ponders what kind of results he’ll find as Lee leads him through the wide, shade-dappled streets of northern Konoha.

Lee’s apartment sits in the top corner of an old, stately building at the end of a winding cobblestone lane. The lane’s mouth now sports a sign that labels it as a historical neighborhood, sporting this-and-that period facade on such-and-such house, which features so-and-so dormers sprouting from the signature roof of famed local architect what’s-his-face. 

And it’s obvious, too, that the neighborhood is historical. On Gaara’s last visit, the sign wasn’t installed yet, but for quite some time he’s noticed a transformation that crawls from Konoha’s center into each and every side street. The squat traditional houses with sprawling courtyards and complex outbuildings are clapped with polymer siding or, for the rich, smoother stone than he’s seen this side of his own home town, and the vast family tracts dotted with small cottages are converted into single massive manor-houses, plopped down into broad green lawns and separated by tidy white fences. Cobblestone streets are ripped up and replaced with smooth char-black pavement that turns ice-rink-slick in winter and pulls at his shoes in the summer; the power lines and piping systems above are bundled into neat single strands (which, he admits, is probably for the best).

But here sits Lee’s neighborhood, looking just as it always has: boxy homes with winding exterior stairs, wildflower lawns and dramatic lightwood roofs. Gaara remembers with a smile the first time he saw Lee’s home. And the second. And the third. Every time, it is encased in light and wonder, a holy and gentle place.

“Tenten should still be around,” Lee comments absently. “I told her I’d be back soon. She will be very glad to see you, Gaara!”

“Tenten?” Gaara comments. “Ah, I have a letter for her from my brother, but…” They advance together up the cobble road, Gaara passing his hand over a neighbor’s skunk cabbage plant as if apologizing for the beautiful white bloom’s unfortunate name. “Why is she visiting you?”

Lee gives him a questioning look.

“I don’t mean to pry,” Gaara continues. “Oh, I don’t…” What is that scowl on Lee’s face all of a sudden? Oh, it must be: “I don’t worry that anything is going on with you two. Please don’t give me that look. But shouldn’t she be on duty today?”

“Gaara,” Lee says with a laugh. “Were you listening on the way over?”

Gaara says nothing, choosing instead to examine his shoes.

Lee sets the bag on the ground and fumbles with the lock separating his apartment building’s common room from the outside world. “It’s alright! I know you like to sightsee, Gaara. Well, as I said on the way over…”

Inside the building, Tenten sits at a low table, leaning against it as she studies the scroll beneath her propped-up elbows. Light streams in through the massive windows and the sliding courtyard door stands open, revealing the small training field just beyond the shallow entryway.

In the courtyard, a man spins around from his place at a battered training post, stilling what was once a flurry of activity. A bead of sweat falls from his forehead and lands on his green jumpsuit, and he wipes at his thick black brows with the back of a huge hand. He grins, dazzling in the light, and makes his way towards the open door to meet the guest of honor.

“Gaara,” Lee announces with a sweeping gesture, “meet my first ninjutsu!”

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a single idea: what if Boruto-era Rock Lee looks weird because he's a slightly disfigured clone? 
> 
> Have fun, folks, and let me know if there's a dumb situation you want Rock Bee to get into.


End file.
